‘Reagan’s going back to Congress in February to ask for millions more for his good friend, the President of Guatemala,’ said Walt. ‘He will show them the edited version of this recording. He will tell them of the dreadful communist guerrillas wiping out the native Mayan population.’

‘He’ll get it too,’ said the American with the bad teeth. ‘He’s got the Christian right-wingers in his pocket and they adore RÍos Montt. He’s doing God’s work, after all.’

‘And what do you want any of us to do about that?’ asked the smooth man in the polo neck.

‘You’re going to stop it,’ said Walt, simply. ‘I have enough leverage against each of you to ensure that you spend your days either in jail or in the ground and that your legacies are utterly destroyed. Your names will become bywords for incompetence and deceit. I will see you painted as the very worst of traitors to your nations. If God has a ledger, your names are in it for transgressions that most would consider irredeemable. You, Cranham. You gave approval through your role in the Joint Intelligence Committee for the Angels operation to be rolled up and have its funding withdrawn. You approved the mission in Belize that led to the very best of my intelligence assets being obliterated. You, Gooden, you personally handed over to the Kaibiles a deep-cover operative of mine – a man who had risked everything to share with me the atrocities committed by government forces and to whom I promised a safe haven. I believed him to be safe in Belize – safe with a British army officer of impeccable breeding. Instead you informed your own paymasters. Informed Whitehall. Made a mess of everything and then gave him to the Kaibiles when they crossed the border and came looking. Shall I tell you how they killed him, Gooden? Or perhaps about the good Father, the missionary shot down over the jungle as he flew back from sharing vital intelligence about troop movements and the atrocities taking place in the jungle community that he had helped create, and where, worse luck, the government had recently discovered oil? I can play you the recording of the moments before his death, if you wish. He greets it with the fortitude one would expect.’

‘No more,’ said Gooden, standing up. ‘I came because you said it was important. I came because I was intrigued. I will not be made a scapegoat for the things done by our enemies—’

Pelletier stepped forward and cuffed him around the head like a naughty schoolboy. At the back of the room, one of the security guards reached inside his jacket. One of the guards who’d hurt John raised his weapon and shook his head. There was silence for a moment. I realized I’d barely been breathing. I glanced at John who was staring up at me with glassy eyes.